


Necessary

by DittyWrites



Series: Scarecrow/Riddler Shenanigans [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 14:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11038476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DittyWrites/pseuds/DittyWrites
Summary: When Edward is hurt, it causes Jonathan to unleash a furious attack as he is forced to protect him.





	Necessary

**Author's Note:**

> A tumblr prompt xx

The pain which blossomed from his abdomen caused Edwards' vision to darken dangerously for a moment as a loud roar of utter fury rang in his ear, making him dizzy. His hands instinctively shot to wrap around the thin length of pipe which was protruding from his stomach, eyes widening at the absurdity of the item and the foreignness of its appearance.

Wrapped hands grabbed him and pushed him to the floor roughly and the suddenness of the movement tore a cry of pain from his throat as he was forced into a position where he was lying flat. In his line of sight, he could see the two henchmen giving fearful looks to their shared companion whom had been foolish enough to attack him.

He had been insulting the cretin, as he was prone to do, when the fool had apparently snapped and, moving faster than anyone could have anticipated, decided to sink his weapon as deeply into Edwards' stomach as he possibly could.

Lying flat, he felt a odd tickle on his side and he realised that a few droplets of blood had escaped his grasp and were trickling down his body. Not enough to be of great concern but as a rule he liked to keep his blood within his body.

Feeling panic begin to set in, Edward attempted to even his breathing and slow his heartbeat just as fingers tilted his jaw roughly and Jonathans' features came into his view as his other hand examined the wound.

“Not fatal...no organs pierced...leave it in.”

The disjointed words were growled with such an intense rage and hoarseness that they were almost intelligible but what chilled Edward the most was the look in Jonathans' eyes as they bored into his own.

Jonathans' icy stare, typically filled with such a keen rationality and intelligence that the blue eyes appeared almost piercing in their intensity, had been replaced with a look so full of fire and thirst for violence that Edward felt the thrill of fear grip him as he was confronted by it.

In this moment, Jonathan Crane was gone.

The Scarecrow was in full control.

And Edward could only shiver before him.

“Stay.”

An order from the monster.

Unable to speak, Edward elected to give a pathetic nod instead as he gently placed his hands on the flesh around his injured abdomen, taking great care to avoid touching the small length of pipe.

As Jonathan jumped up from his crouched position, Edward could only watch as the three henchmen shifted into defensive positions as they found Jonathans' scythe pointed in their direction threateningly.

A quick swipe, faster than Edward though possible, and one of the men let free a pained shriek as the blade nicked his hand, forcing him to drop the length of chain which he had intended to use to defend himself and his two friends.

His noise was immediately silenced as Jonathan swung the blade again and the loud yell was dulled to a panicked gargle as the mans' hands flew to his neck in a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood which was now flowing from his severed flesh. His eyes were bulged with the surprise of the attack but death found him before he could articulate any kind of response and his twitching body fell to the floor, blood slowly pooling around him as he stilled.

Now fully understanding that this was to be a fight to the death, the voices of both remaining men raised together in a deafening cacophony of panic and aggression as they struggled to defend themselves against the unleashed Scarecrow.

Still watching the fallen body with a morbid disinterest, Edward eventually dragged his eyes away to watch the battle which was raging just a few feet away.

Jonathan was no fighter but he had always described his preferred style as 'violent dancing' and while Edward had laughed at him then, he was not laughing now as he watched Jonathan twirl his scythe with a practised ease and grace.

Strength was not the focus here but strength was not needed when you possessed a blade sharp enough to slide through bone.

As he scuttled backwards in a desperate attempt to escape, one of the men tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor, hard. Clearly sensing opportunity, Jonathan twisted the scythe in his hand as he scored it across the ground following the path of the fallen man and sparks flitted across the surface, momentarily illuminating the terrified face of the man as he dodged the blow.

Rolling across the floor, the man drew himself to his feet again and, casting an apologetic look to his remaining friend, turned and fled towards the other end of the warehouse.

Snarling at the retreating figure, Jonathans' free hand was curled into a claw as his fingers flexed around an imaginary neck. However, his attention was soon drawn to the only man left.

The one who had attacked Edward.

Rooted to the spot in terror, whatever bravery had seized the man and caused his foolish action had apparently fled him as he stood pathetically, unable to even flee. His hands were placed in front of him defensively, his lack of weapon clear, and he physically cowered as Jonathan focused on him.

The burlap on Jonathans' costume had a dark stain in one of the corners and it swayed slightly as he walked slowly towards his final victim, the predatory nature of his gait causing the hairs on Edwards' neck to stand, and he stilled his approach just a few feet away from the man.

Another flash of the scythe and the screaming, which had mercifully ceased for a short moment, reached a new height as a light smattering of liquid made itself known across Edwards' cheek.

He did not need to touch it to know what it was.

The light thud of an object falling next to him as it was detached from its original home also reached his ears as the noise from the man reached an almost inhuman level.

He did not need to look at it to know what it was.

The unmistakable smell of copper assaulted his nostrils and he turned his head to gently press his cheek against the floor, the cool sensation giving him something to focus on as he fought to keep the shock from overtaking his body.

He was not a squeamish man but this was a little much.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Edward felt an odd mixture of relief and disgust when the screaming of the final man was cut off suddenly and a new heavy silence filled the warehouse in its place. The scent of blood was causing a roiling effect in his stomach and he fought the urge to vomit as he concentrated on keeping his body as still as possible.

He was afraid.

A cowardly part of him hoped that he would pass out and awaken to find that Jonathan had removed them both from this place and had returned back to his usual state.

He did not want to face the Scarecrow when he was this weak.

This vulnerable.

His hopes were short-lived as he felt a presence to his side and the sound of heavy breathing as Jonathan invaded his space again. He could attempt to feign unconsciousness but he doubted his ability to fool the master psychologist.

Feeling wet hands on his face, he opened his eyes hesitantly as he tried to suppress the shudders which were coursing through him as he met Jonathans' gaze once more.

His eyes were still wild, the adrenaline and exertion having caused his expression to solidify into an almost feral snarl which looked unnatural on his generally composed face, but behind the madness Edward could just decipher the concern which was hidden within the icy depths.

Exhaling, Edward bit the bullet.

“Jonat-Scarecrow?” He corrected himself.

“Yes?” The low voice was little more than a grunt but there was a look of expectation which was impossible to ignore.

“Thank you,” Edward offered, issuing a soft sigh as he continued to ask, “but was _that_ really necessary? I am hurt but I am nowhere near death.”

The words lingered in the air for a few moments, dangerous eyes sweeping languidly across his damaged body before providing an answer in a tone which bordered no argument.

“It was necessary.”

 


End file.
